


And the clocks ticked twelve

by UpInSpace



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, Fluff, M/M, Magical Realism, No Angst, Promises, attempt at least, friends to strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:07:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26034661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UpInSpace/pseuds/UpInSpace
Summary: It all starts with a boy in a tree, a magical watch and a childhood promise.Fifteen years later, Kenji finally gets the opportunity to fulfill that promise.
Relationships: Aone Takanobu/Futakuchi Kenji
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51
Collections: AoFuta Week 2020





	And the clocks ticked twelve

**Author's Note:**

> This is both my first attempt at magical realism and my first shot at this ship, and I really hope you enjoy it!!

There was a boy sitting on the tree.

He was sitting on one of the lower branches, legs dangling beneath him, one of his hands resting against the trunk of the tree to steady himself, the other one folded on his lap. 

Kenji wasn't sure how long the boy had been sitting there, staring directly at him, but he had an inkling he had been there for longer than Kenji had. The thought unnerved him more than he wanted to admit, but he pushed that feeling to the side, focused on more important things.

“Come on, it has to be here somewhere, please just be here somewhere,” he muttered to himself, pushing the fallen leaves aside as he frantically searched the ground.

Even if it was around noon, the Sun bright and up in the sky, the branches in that part of the forest grew close together, the canopy of trees dense enough to stop most of the sunlight from filtering through them, making it harder for him to spot what he was looking for.

Growing anxious with every passing minute, Kenji looked up at the boy sitting on the tree, and found him still staring at him.

“Have you seen where my watch landed?” He asked, twisting his hands on his lap. “It's small and old, and I had it in my hand when I fell and now I don't know where it is. I'm not supposed to go around with it in my pocket and my parents are going to kill me if I don't find it,” the words left his lips like an avalanche, one tumbling after the other, almost tripping themselves in the haste to get out.

Above Kenji, the boy remained silent.

He was sure he painted quite a pitiful picture, with his hair sweaty and disheveled from when he'd run his fingers through it, and his trousers stained with dirt and mud, but the boy didn't seem to notice any of that. Instead, he continued to stare at him in silence, just cocking his head to the side.

Kenji sighed to himself and returned his attention to the ground.

His parents would be so disappointed when he came back empty handed. Already he could hear it, the angry speech from his mother as she realized what he had done. It would hurt, he was sure of it, but it wouldn’t be anything compared to the sad, heartbroken look in his father’s eyes, the one he’d desperately try to hide from him, to try and not make him feel even guiltier than he already felt, but the one he’d see nonetheless.

It made it hard to breathe, even harder to focus on the ground as his vision got blurry with unshed tears and he thought he wouldn’t find it, that the pocket watch would forever lay on the forest’s soil, buried under fallen leaves, down where the Sun rays never reached, useless to all, remembered by none. 

A wet sigh left his lips and Kenji shuddered, suddenly feeling ill, but just as he looked up, something slithered towards him.

Kenji knelt there, frozen, as it slowly crawled in his direction. He didn’t do so much as breathe, his body unresponsive to his commands, muscles locked in fear.

It got closer still to him, until it stopped under a small beam of sunlight, just shy of touching him. It wasn’t until it stopped that Kenji realized it was not a snake, as he had feared, but rather a root, the end of it curved around itself like it was holding, or protecting, something. Under the weak sunlight, it gleamed.

Holding his breath, Kenji leaned forward, and slowly extended his hands. His fingers grazed the root, as cautiously as if it were a wild animal, and the root inched closer too, hovering lightly above his opens palms, before carefully depositing something on them.

A smile broke across his face, so wide his cheeks almost hurt. Relief flooded his veins as he finally found himself able to breathe.

There was a boy sitting on a tree, and he looked silently at Kenji, eyes never leaving his face.

“Thank you,” he whispered, eyes open in wonder, as he cradled the watch to his chest.

After sending a quick prayer in gratitude, he inspected the pocket watch.

The watch was small and old, with small bumps and scratches all over its surface, and a pattern of leaves engraved in it’s polished back. It was a silver pocket watch, one that had been in his family for generations, getting passed down from parents to sons. There was nothing remarkable about it at first sight, not unless you opened it.

Kenji opened the pocket watch, and brought it to his ear. Holding his breath, Kenji didn't breathe until he heard the faint tick tacking coming from it.

A relieved sigh escaped his lips, and he caressed the watch reverently before pocketing it away, making sure it was protected and that it wouldn't fall again. 

The boy on the tree was still looking at him, something like curiosity in the way he held himself. 

Kenji reached into his pocket and held the watch in his hands once again. 

“It's a family heirloom,” he explained, as he opened it. “It's not a normal watch, it never shows the right time. It doesn't even work, really, it just changes from person to person.” Kenji stared pensively at the watch, at it's small hands perfectly lined up to point at 12 o'clock. “My dad says it means something, but he won't tell me what, he says I have to find it out myself,” he scowled. He extended his arm towards the tree. The boy cocked his head to the side. “Do you want to see it?” 

At first, Kenji thought the boy wouldn't react, wouldn't even reply, but then he moved, and the tree seemed to move with him, lowering itself so that he could reach the ground. 

Kenji watched him with curiosity. He had heard the rumors about the forest folk, the spirits that lived among the woods, and while the boy seemed as human as he was, he must have something of them in him, a droplet of blood that marked him as something other than human, that allowed him to do things that most couldn’t. 

The boy walked cautiously towards him, and Kenji stayed as unmoving as he could so as to not startle him. As he approached him, Kenji saw the boy must be around his age, even if he was much taller than he himself was. With his white hair and impressive height, he was imposing, but Kenji saw him move with caution towards him, and he remembered the gentleness with which the roots had placed the watch in his awaiting hands, and he knew he didn't have anything to fear from him. 

The boy knelt beside him, near Kenji's extended arm, and peered curiously at the watch, even if he didn't make any moves to touch it. Instead, he looked at it from afar, before turning his eyes to look at Kenji.

“Do you want to hold it?” He asked, and the boy’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “We can see what time it shows for you. Here,” he continued, and, without giving the other much option, placed the watch on his hands.

Holding their breaths, they both looked down at the watch, Kenji craning his neck to stare at it and have a clear vision of the hands moving. Except they didn’t.

For the first time in Kenji’s short life, the watch’s hands didn’t move to show another time when it was passed from one person to another. As the other boy held it, it continued to point at 12 o’clock.

Kenji frowned.

“That’s weird,” he said. “It has never done that. Why would it do that?” Kenji reached forward to put the watch away once again, but as he did so, he glimpsed the other boy biting at his bottom lip and he froze, hands hovering over the watch, without touching it. The boy looked up at him, curious. “Wait. Do you know why it didn’t change?” The boy looked quickly to the side, red dusting his cheeks over so slightly, and Kenji knew he was on the right track. “How!? What can it do? Tell me!” He cried out, but the boy shook his head, eyes shining and determined. “Why not!?”

“You have to find out for yourself,” was the unexpectedly soft reply. It left him with his mouth hanging open in surprise. Even if Kenji had asked the question, he had somehow gotten used to the other boy not talking, and so he was taken aback when he got an actual answer. Taking advantage of Kenji’s state, the boy took one of Kenji’s hands in his own before carefully placing the pocket watch on his palm, closing Kenji’s fingers around it. “I think you have to go now, it’s getting late,” the boy continued speaking, and it snapped Kenji back to reality in time to hear the last of the bells ringing in the distance.

He had promised his mother he’d be back by twelve, and he was already running late.

Jumping to his feet, Kenji didn’t even bother brushing the dirt of his trousers before he took off, rushing towards the edge of the forest.

“I’ll be back tomorrow!” He screamed over his shoulder as he ran. “And you’ll tell me what it means!”

The pocket watch sat safe and sound in Kenji’s pocket as he ran back home, his head filled with images of a boy sat on a tree, and warm fingers wrapped around his.

***

Kenji did come back the day after, and the one after that, and the one after that too. But the boy, Takanobu, as he soon learnt was his name, never told him what the pocket watch’s time indicated. 

Surprisingly enough, Kenji discovered it didn’t bother as much as he thought it would, at first. Takanobu was good company, even if he didn’t talk much, and, besides that, he was sure he’d find out soon enough what it meant. 

Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t try and get an answer every now and then.

“Why won’t you tell me?” He whined, pouting slightly. One of his arms was lying across his head, shielding his eyes from the Sun, while the other was extended by his side, mindlessly playing with the blades of grass.

Above him, sitting on one of the branches, was Takanobu, his feet dangling beneath him. It wasn’t easy to get him to leave his tree, but, with every passing day, the distance between them grew smaller, and Kenji counted that as a victory.

Takanobu glanced at him, face impassive, and seemed to sigh, as if he was tired of hearing the same question day after day. Kenji didn’t feel particularly sorry about it, if he were to be honest. His mother had always said he’d manage to make anyone loose their patience, and it was a skill he was honing to perfection. However, it was still very much a work in process, as it was made obvious by Takanobu’s resistance to him.

“And how did you even know what it was?” He asked then, as the question popped up in his mind. “You only saw it for a minute and you knew, that’s not fair!” He grumbled to himself, feeling frustration building up inside him.

Leaning back to sit against the tree trunk, Takanobu tilted his head ever so slightly, a clear sign he was listening, and thinking about what to say.

“I can tell that kind of thing,” he replied simply, like it was no big thing.

Kenji narrowed his eyes.

“Liar,” he accused the other, pointing at him with a finger. Takanobu’s lips trembled ever so slightly, a faint tremor that was almost imperceptible, but Kenji caught sight of it. “You’re lying! Not fair!”

Takanobu curved his lips into a faint smile, looking oddly pleased with himself. Kenji watched, transfixed, what was probably the biggest display of emotion he had ever seen from the other boy in the weeks they had known each other.

“I’ve seen others like it,” he admitted. “My grandad liked to collect magical objects, and he had some that were like your watch, made by the same person. He used to tell me stories about them when he had the time.”

Kenji waited for him to add something else, but Takanobu kept silent. Rolling his eyes, Kenji sat up, his back against the trunk.

“And you just looked at it and new what it was? That easy?”

Takanobu nodded.

“When you spend your time surrounded by magic, it’s really obvious. The rest is easy.”

“Huh,” Kenji muttered his assent. He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut short when his stomach started to grumble. Glowering at his own stomach, he tried to excuse himself, but before he could, he felt something landing softly beside him. He didn’t need to look to see what it was, instead reaching blindly for it and taking a bite. “Thank you!” He said through a mouthful of apple.

“Why do you want someone else to tell you what it can do?” Takanobu asked then, as Kenji ate the rest of the apple. Surprised, Kenji looked up, to find Takanobu focused on the branch he was sitting on, absentmindedly drawing figures on it with his fingertips. “I thought you liked mysteries.”

“I do,” Kenji replied, throwing the apple’s heart away once he was done with it. “But I like answers even more. If I knew how to open it and put it back together again, I would. I don’t do it because I’d probably mess it up, and I don’t want to, but that’s also why I need someone else to tell me the answer.”

“Maybe you’d know if you waited.”

“But I’m not patient! And it’s easy to say when you _know_ something is magical, but I can’t tell, for all I know, my dad could be pulling my leg, so I want the answers soon!” He whined, his bottom lip jutting out.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Huh?”

“Are you sure you can’t tell when something’s magical?” Takanobu clarified. Kenji frowned.

“Of course I am! Why?”

“When you spend your time surrounded by magic, it’s really obvious,” he replied, quoting his previous words.

Kenji stared at him, brain working to make sense of what the other had said. Takanobu patiently waited, never breaking the eye contact.

“I didn’t bring the watch today, but I’ll look at it when I get home,” he said slowly, chewing on his bottom lip. “You really think I could see it’s magical?”

Takanobu nodded in reply, as Kenji shuffled beneath him, trying to find a comfortable position in which to lay in a pool of sunlight.

“Huh. That would be really cool,” he admitted, crossing his arms behind his head, and Takanobu hummed his assent.

Around them, the wind blew softly through the leaves, playing with the lights and shadows, and Kenji closed his eyes in content, feeling something akin to happiness spreading through his veins.

“Hey, Takanobu. Do you have any more apples?” Kenji’s question broke the silence around them after a little while, eyes still closed as he basked in the Sun’s heat. Not long after, something landed with a soft ‘thump’ by his side, a branch slowly getting back to its previous position, and Kenji smiled a toothy grin. “Thank you!”

***

“This one, this one and…,” Kenji leaned closer, brows furrowed in concentration, chin propped his fist, as he carefully inspected the objects laying in front of him. “I think this one too,” he declared, leaning back slightly to look at Takanobu.

He felt pretty sure with his choices, but that confidence wavered a little as he stared at Takanobu’s blank expression. The silence between them stretched, and Kenji found himself reconsidering his previous guesses, frantically thinking of where he could have gone wrong, when a small smile broke on Takanobu’s face, and Kenji realized the other had just been toying with him.

“I was right!?” He cried out. Throwing his hands in the air, Kenji let himself fall back against the grass, laughing, before pulling himself back into a sitting position. “That’s three in a row without failing, I can’t believe I can really do this,” out of the corner of his eye, Kenji noted Takanobu pursing his lips slips slightly, and he clicked his tongue, “I know you told me, I just wasn’t expecting to do this so fast.”

Silently, Takanobu started to put away the objects he had lined up on the grass, between the two of them. Some of them were completely normal, nothing remarkable about them, while others had a faint glow to them, one that gave away the magic in them.

It wasn’t as easy for him as it was for Takanobu, for whom it was as natural as breathing, but, just like Takanobu had said, the longer Kenji spent in the presence of magic, the easier it was to pick it up with just a glance.

Kenji felt excitement bubbling in his veins, crawling up his spine, fingers itching to learn more, touch more. The first time he had tried to do it, it had taken him almost an hour to catch the faintest glow around his pocket watch, after he examined it closely and compared to an average one. However, as time went by, it was becoming increasingly easy to do so, and he was then able to distinguish them without spending as much time and effort as before.

Takanobu didn’t say much, but Kenji saw his pride in the faint curve of his lips and the way he carefully put the small line of objects away.

Kenji watched him do so with a feeling of fondness rushing through him, warmth spreading from his chest to the tips of his fingers. Summer was beginning it’s slow decline, the days turning gradually shorter, temperature growing colder. Still, he spent most of the time in the woods, lying on the grass beside Takanobu, or his tree.

He wished he could save those days forever, bottling up the way he felt to carry it with him everywhere he went.

“What’s wrong?” Takanobu asked, tilting his head to the side, sensing the shift in Kenji’s mood. His eyes scanned Kenji’s face, a tender and worried look in them.

Kenji sighed, letting his head hang low between his shoulders, bangs covering his forehead and eyes.

“I heard my parents talking the other day,” he started, playing with the blades of glass between his fingers, absentmindedly plucking them as he did so. Takanobu leaned forward, clearly paying attention to him. “They said we might be moving out. Soon. My dad got a job offer and…,” he looked up briefly, but promptly turned his eyes back down. “We’re moving out when the summer ends,” he finished, voice turning into a whisper.

A heavy blanket of silence fell upon them after that, as if the entire forest knew to not disturb them.

Takanobu looked out, away from Kenji, and Kenji feet the breath stuck in his lungs, eyes burning with unshed tears. He rubbed at them with his forearm, with so much force it was almost painful, but he kept the sobs in, even as they threatened to make him come undone.

Takanobu remained quiet, eyes still cast away. Above them, the Sun moved across the sky, playing with the shadows around them, making them grow larger with every passing second.

Standing up on legs that were shaking so badly they could barely keep him from falling, Kenji turned around to leave, but a hand around his wrist, fingers digging into the soft cotton of his shirt, kept him in place.

Surprised, he looked down to find Takanobu staring at him, eyes burning with an intensity he had never seen before.

“I’ll find you,” he said, voice firm and clear, even if his arms trembled as if he had just climbed a mountain. Kenji put one hand on Takanobu’s arm, his touch soothing, and slowly, Takanobu’s vice-like grip on him softened, his trembling receding. “Doesn’t matter when, or where, but I’ll find you, and _you’ll_ tell me what that watch does,” and that was a promise.

***

The glass under his cheek has cool, his breath fogging it up slightly as Kenji leaned his head against the car’s window. The sky was leaden, clouds hiding the Sun from view. 

In front of them, the road stretched through the woods, leaving their small town behind. Kenji had barely had time to say goodbye to his house before he was ushered into the back seat of the car, his parents wanting an early start to face the long journey ahead of them.

He had planned on saying goodbye, but it had been proven impossible to do so, not when his mother wouldn’t let him out of her sight, as if she knew he was one minor distraction away from bolting and dashing into the forest.

The car had been slowly coming to life when he heard the rustling of leaves behind them, and it was already driving away when Takanobu erupted from the forest, panting and disheveled like he had come running. 

It was too late to stop the car, and so Kenji could only watch as Takanobu run behind it until he stopped, his legs not strong enough to carry him any longer. He waved sadly goodbye as the car drove away, feeling something tightening in his chest.

He kept his eyes on Takanobu until he was nothing but a speck of dust in the distance, undistinguishable from the sea of trees behind him. Still, Kenji continued to stare, body twisted around in his car seat, committing the image to memory, engraving it behind his eyelids. It was the first time he had ever seen Takanobu leave the cover of the trees, despite the times he had suggested it to him before.

Kenji closed his hand around the watch, feeling every curve of it digging into the tender flesh of his palm. He felt the faint _tick tacking_ traveling up his fingertips like a second heart, echoing through his veins.

“I’ll find you if you don’t,” he murmured, his words a promise only for him to hear.

***

“Well, that was disappointing,” Moniwa grumbled to Kenji’s left, burying his hands deep in his pockets as he sighed.

Kenji smiled, mimicking his posture while they strolled down the promenade, the Sun caressing their faces.

“It could have been worse,” he replied, causing Moniwa to grumble even louder.

“You’re just saying so because you _did_ get something out of this expedition, even if it was a stupid comb,” he said, and Kenji let out a loud laugh at that, causing his friend to frown even more. 

“Why do you even want that?” Kamasaki asked, as he caught up to them.

“He likes collecting useless stuff,” Moniwa replied before he could open his mouth. It was Kenji’s turn to frown at him in annoyance, and Moniwa smirked in response.

“I don’t like collecting useless stuff, I just like collecting magical objects.”

“And what’s the difference?” Moniwa huffed, “you won’t even use half of the shit you have.”

Kenji shrugged.

“I always liked solving mysteries as a kid,” he said, “and once I solve a mystery, I tend to like keeping it. Plus, you never know when you’re going to need it.”

“What did you even get this time?” Sakunami turned to him, curiosity in his tone.

“A comb,” as he spoke, Kenji pulled it from his pocket for all of them to see, before putting it back away, tucked safely into one of his trouser’s multiple pockets. It was a beautiful thing, delicate and of an ivory colour that had made it shine even more beautifully when he had first picked it up. It had somehow survived all the years it had spent in that sunken ship, and, just because of that, Kenji thought it was worth being in his collection. “It was stored away in one of the wooden boxes, I had to stomp on it to open it, but I think it was worth it. The company didn’t have an interest in it and didn’t know who to return it to, so they let me keep it,” the rest of them nodded as he spoke, familiar with his explanation. It was, after all, how most of his collection had fallen onto his hands.

“Somehow, I doubt you’ll be using that thing at all,” Kamasaki observed, causing the rest of them to snicker. “Do you even know what it does?”

Kenji threw a disdainful glare over his shoulder, slightly baring his teeth as he replied.

“Of course I know what it does, who do you think I am? Some amateur? I’ve been doing this for almost fifteen years.”

“There’s a storm coming,” someone behind them pointed out, effectively stopping whatever discussion was about to start. Just as he spoke, a gust of wind raked its fingers through Kenji’s hair, pulling his jacket wide open and sending a chill down his spine. “It might break anytime soon.”

And he was right. The Sun that had been shining the moments prior was swiftly getting covered by thunderous clouds, ones that promised heavy rain, and the sea, that had been a beautiful shade of bright blue, was turning murky, waves of grey colored water crashing against the rocks underneath the promenade, painting the black surface with ribbons of white foam.

“We should probably get back to the hotel before the storm breaks,” Moniwa suggested, causing the rest of them to express their assent.

“What do you think those people are doing there? Shouldn’t they try to get cover?” Kamasaki pointed out, sticking his chin out in their direction. Kenji followed his eyes.

At the end of the promenade sat an old fashioned lighthouse sat, rising just above a long and thin stretch of black rocks that crept into sea, before fully diving into it. Huddled beneath the lighthouse was a growing group of people, who all seemed to be looking at the same specific point of the sea.

“It doesn’t matter, ignore th—, Futakuchi, what are you doing? Wait!” Moniwa called after him as Kenji walked towards the lighthouse, ignoring his cries.

As he got closer to the crowd, he started picking up bits and pieces of conversations around him, causing his frown to deepen. Elbowing the people around him to make way, he reached the railing that separated the promenade from the sea. There was a small jump to the rocks underneath, and it was enough to see their sharp edges.

“What are you doing?” Moniwa all but screamed in his ear when he reached Kenji’s side, but Kenji paid it no mind.

Instead, he pointed out in the distance, right in front of them.

“Look,” he said, and something in his tone must have told Moniwa just how serious he was, for he did exactly that, squinting as the sea water sprayed their faces.

Soon, his eyes opened wide, and he turned to look at Kenji.

“A siren!?” Kenji nodded. “But how…?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. 

The wind picked up in strength just then, the subsequent gust forcing them all to take a step backwards.

“I think she’s trapped,” a woman said to their right, shielding her face with her arms. “It looks like she can’t move.”

“Of course she can’t, she’s a fish and there’s no water around her,” her companion replied, his voice harsh. “Let’s go before it starts raining. We don’t need to see this,” he added as he walked away, ignoring the woman’s protests.

Kenji gritted his teeth, jaw set in a grim line. Those people hadn’t been wrong. The siren was obviously stuck, and in a very precarious position. Her demise was impending and around them, a dozen phones were ready to record it.

Taking his jacket off, he bundled it up and shoved in Moniwa’s direction, not even looking to make sure he caught it.

“Wait here,” he instructed, jumping onto the rocks beneath them, ignoring his friend’s cries at his back, calling for him.

His eyes were fixed on the siren that lay on the other side of the rocks. Sirens were curious in nature. She must have been chasing something and got caught between the rocks when the sea suddenly pulled back, leaving her unable to go back. They were creatures of the sea, so when they left it, they became vulnerable and, with the storm quickly building up, almost atop of them, Kenji knew she wouldn’t stand a chance.

Treading carefully on the slippery rocks, he approached the siren. Her arms bore scratches from when she had tried to crawl her way back to the sea, her tail useless ashore.

“Don’t be afraid,” Kenji said as he crouched in front of her, arms extended towards him, his hands facing up. The siren looked at him, her tail flapping around nervously. “I’m going to help you,” he continued, speaking softly and clearly. “I’m not going to hurt you, trust me. Just don’t move for a moment and I’ll get you back to the water.”

Kenji stayed still for a second, giving her time to adjust to his presence, before inching closer to her. The siren didn’t react, merely closing her eyes as he sneaked his arms under her body, trying to get a solid grip on her in order to lift her up. 

He did so without much difficulties, the siren lighter than he was expecting. Still, the added weight threatened to topple them both over as he got closer to the sea, water spraying his face and the wind howling in his ears as the incoming storm became stronger. The siren grabbed onto his shirt with one hand, her fingers digging into it with so much strength she almost tore it. Her other hand was closed around something, the broken remains of a brush that she allowed to slip through her fingers and onto the rocks, where it was promptly washed away by the waves.

“I’m going to get you to the water, okay?” He asked, raising his voice to be heard above the roaring of the sea.

The siren nodded, jerking her head, fingers still painfully digging into his shirt. The long stretch of rocks had finally come to an end, the sea licking the tips of Kenji’s boots as the rocks suddenly plunged into the water, like a staircase that stepped into it.

Kenji tried to lower the siren from his stand on the rocks, but a quick attempt proved it to be a risky thing to do so, maneuvering his arms to get a better hold on the siren, Kenji carefully stepped down into the sea. The water rose up to his knees, the waves reaching as high as his navel, and the level grew rapidly. Daring to walk further into the sea, mindful not to lose his foothold, Kenji found a place in which to drop the siren into the sea, making sure she wouldn’t get caught in the rocks.

She carefully jumped from his arms, slipping through them like she was made of water, and dove headfirst into the sea, not making a wave, or even as much as a ripple. Standing up, Kenji looked out to see if he could find her among the body of water, but it soon became obvious that was an impossible thing to do, not to mention reckless, and so he turned around, ready to go back to the shore.

Kenji felt it then as he took the first step forward, the water that had reached as far as his waist receding fast, too fast, pulling him back as it did so. He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know what he’d find, didn’t need to turn around to know the next wave was building up, rising high above him, ready to fall upon him.

He could almost see it, then, could almost feel the water crashing against his back, sinking him far beneath the surface until he’d crash against the rocks, bones splintering in the collision. 

Kenji closed his eyes, the mass of water roaring as it approached him. Whatever he did, he wouldn’t manage to swim back up.

The wave crashed against him, forcing him to his knees, and then he was blind.

All he could feel was the water, tearing at his clothes and filtering through his closed lips, an embrace that pulled him down and one that he couldn’t resist. He became a puppet at the mercy of the sea, as it threw him in every possible direction. He fell forward, hands scraping against the rocks as he tried to grab onto something, anything to keep him safe, but his fingers slipped on everything, useless.

The water above him broke for a second and he managed to get some air in, but it wasn’t long until he sank beneath the waves again, and soon he was being propelled towards the rocks, approaching them so fast he knew it to be pointless to resist.

Kenji closed his eyes, arms raised in front of his face, bracing for impact.

Before he crashed against the rocks, however, he felt something snaking around his waist, pulling him away. The sudden contact surprised him, and Kenji squirmed, trying to break free, but he was dizzy, and he couldn’t do anything but let himself be carried away.

Next thing he knew, he was being pushed out of the water, his lungs burning due to the lack of air. Stumbling forward until he fell on all fours, his legs too weak to keep him standing, Kenji breathed in deeply, digging his fingers into he sand, grabbing fistfuls of it. Coughing, he managed to spit out the sea water he had breathed in, slowly returning to normal.

Once his vision cleared and he was able to make sense of his surroundings, he saw he had been dragged away to a sandy portion of the beach, not too far away from where he had first gotten in the water. The waves still crashed against the rocks, their black surface barely visible under the sea foam and water that kept them submerged. 

Distantly, he could make out the sound of screaming over the roaring of the waves.

Standing on shaky legs, Kenji turned around, and came face to face to his savior. It didn’t entirely as a shock to him to discover it had been the siren the one to pull him away to safety, though it did surprise him she had managed to drag him all the way to the beach. Seen up close, without fear making her turn her face away from him, it was obvious the siren was young, a girl, her long strands of blonde hair, so pale it was almost transparent, framing her face, making her look even younger.

She vaguely resembled a human, the arms that had snaked around his waist presenting the most obvious resemblance, but her body was covered in scales of iridescent tones that resembled those of a fish, and it was clear she was, above all, a marine creature.

Despite that, her eyes, completely black and perfectly round, like those of a fish, were focused on Kenji, never once leaving him, her face showing something akin to concern.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his words hoarse from all the sea water. 

He had expected the siren to leave as soon as she saw he was safe, but she stayed where she was, her head the only thing visible, the rest of her body under the surface. She scanned her eyes over his body, like she was curious, or looking for something.

Cautiously, Kenji took a step forward, worried he might scare her away, but the siren merely watched him, her unblinking eyes slightly unnerving. Kenji closed the distance between them, until they were close enough to touch.

“Here, to replace the one you’ve lost,” he said, pulling out the comb he had miraculously not lost in the water. The siren looked at it, her eyes curious, hand darting out to grab it, fingers linked together by a semitransparent web. “It’s a special comb,” he explained, watching as wonder filled the siren’s eyes. “It can tame the wildest of hairs, keeping it as smooth as silk with just one pass.” An useful gift for someone whose hair was always floating around in the water.

The siren smiled, glee lighting up her expression, sharp teeth glinting, as she cradled the comb to her chest.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice rusty, as if she weren’t used to speaking.

And with that, she was gone, submerging under the blue sea like she had never been there at all.

Kenji stared at the water, hoping to catch a glimpse of the siren before he left, but to no avail. It was there that his friends found him not even ten minutes later, eyes still focused on the sea.

“You’ve been so goddamn lucky,” Moniwa told him, just after cursing at him for his recklessness, and before engulfing him in a hug that threatened to smother him.

He wasn’t completely off, though.

Sirens were elusive creatures. They said if you managed to spot a siren, you were lucky. They said if you managed to speak to them, you were blessed.

Kenji had always thought it to be a manner of speech, some metaphor to prove just how rare it was to even see one of them, let alone speak to them, but that changed when he returned back home. 

Sitting on his front door, there was a letter waiting for him. An old distant uncle of his had passed away, it read. He had a considerable amount of money and no direct heirs, it continued. Kenji was to inherit everything the old man had once had, it finished.

Kenji read the letter, once, twice, and then again for good measure. He called his parents, who were as puzzled as he was, but the letter was real, and so was the money.

He still wasn’t sure it wasn’t all some elaborate prank from the universe, maybe, but Kenji was willing to accept that, maybe, it wasn’t just a figure of speech and, maybe, those who managed to speak to sirens were indeed blessed.

He didn’t know what to do with the money, at first. Then he took a look at his cramped apartment, filled with the objects he’d found and saved over the years, and an idea struck him.

Just like that, the _Futakuchi store for the weird and wonderful_ was born, a store for him to buy, and sell, those same objects he had been hunting for his whole life.

It started small, at first, but then word spread, that it was the place to find, and get rid of, the stuff you never knew it could even exist, and soon he was the proud owner of one of the most renowned establishments in town.

It was half store, half museum, and it wasn’t strange for people to come take a look like the objects in display were part of an exhibition. Kenji bought most from people who no longer wanted them, while others were the findings from some of his expeditions. He tended to them, studying and breaking them apart until he discovered the purpose they served, and then he placed them around the store, there for the taking if someone took an interest in them.

Some, however, he kept for himself, tucked away safely in the privacy of his home, located not too far away from the store.

Business was usually slow, but steady, and it wasn’t rare for only a trickle of clients to enter the store on a given day. Most of the time, Kenji could spend hours without welcoming anyone inside. It was more obvious on Mondays, when he could open and close the store without having not even one visitor.

It made him consider on Monday mornings whether he should open the store or not, and sometimes the pull of the bed was too strong to resist, closing his eyes and going back to sleep the immediate choice. 

That particular Monday, however, was not one of them. Instead, he had gotten up from bed, and made the trek down to the store, some instinct in him, the same that lead him to his findings, telling him it was a good day to be open.

The first few hours were lonely, and quiet, rain softly falling outside. The clock was nearing eleven when the door opened wide, the bells above it chiming wildly as a man entered, attracting Kenji’s attention to him.

The newcomer was tall, and loud. He had been inside for barely a few seconds, but Kenji could already tell he was noisy, his footsteps disturbing the peace inside the shop, dripping water onto the carpet. He walked in, eyes full of wonder as he looked around, taking everything in, childish glee obvious in the way he smiled to himself. It was his hair what made it hard to look away, though, as it stood up, almost as if it were electrified, blonde and black locks defying gravity like it was nothing.

Kenji raised his brows in disbelief, clicked his tongue to himself as he observed the other. 

When the newcomer almost knocked over one of the shelves as he tried to inspect one of the objects on it, still dripping everywhere, Kenji cleared his throat. The sound was enough to make the other man freeze for a second, like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, before making his way over to where Kenji was standing, a sheepish look in his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hi. I’m sorry for that,” he apologized, smiling timidly.

Kenji leveled him with his most unimpressed look, and the man gulped, eyes darting around nervously.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes!” He replied, voice almost echoing in the otherwise silent store. Kenji glared at him, and he hunched his shoulders, cheeks heating up, “yes,” he repeated, lowering his voice. “My name’s Koganegawa and I have something I wanted to sell,” he continued, twisting his body slightly to the side to take off the backpack he was wearing. “My friend told me about your store and I thought you could help me. He also told me not too have too many expectations but I’m getting married, or will, if I buy the ring and ask, of course, but I… Need the money to do it. Oh, come on, where is it?” He muttered to himself as he searched his bag almost frantically. Huffing loudly, he placed the backpack on top of the counter, emptying its contents on it. Kenji observed him with growing disbelief, taking a discrete step back. “Here it is!” With a cry of triumph, he placed something next to his bag.

Approaching the counter wearily, Kenji eyed the battered notebook sitting on it, then flickered his eyes to look at the other man.

“And this is…?” He started, as politely as he could.

“A notebook!” Koganegawa replied proudly. “It belonged to my great-great grand aunt, and it contains magic spells! She wrote them herself, and she always said they helped her a lot during her life.”

“And, have you ever tried any of these… Spells?” Kenji asked, carefully flipping through the pages.

“No,” Koganegawa replied, averting his eyes briefly. “I’m not very magical,” he admitted, voice dropping slightly. “It’s more of a family heirloom nowadays, honestly!” He continued, reverting to his previous volume. “Something to bring out and remember the old days. I wouldn’t sell it if I had anything else, really, but I don’t have enough money to buy the ring and I really want to so…,” gradually, Koganegawa’s voice dropped until he became silent, eyes glued to the small object. “But it’s fine! If it can help me, even if it’s just a little, it’ll be worth it!”

Kenji looked at the notebook, with it’s frayed covers and weathered pages, and sighed quietly to himself, internally cursing the moment he had decided to open the store that morning.

It wasn’t the first time someone had come to the store with some old family relic they hoped to sell for a hefty price, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last time. Quite often, those relics were of little interest, the magic in them so faint it was barely there, or the objects were in such a sorry state there was no point in buying them.

However, most of the time, those old, valuable, family relics that meant the world to the buyer, _did_ have some kind of value. Not that one, though. No, that notebook was ordinary, the only remarkable thing about it being how old it was. Other than that, it was a plain and ordinary notebook, nothing that really held any kind of interest for him.

Kenji opened his mouth to tell the client so, looked up, and froze.

Koganegawa was almost vibrating. If a person could even do such thing, then he was sure the man in front of him was the perfect example of it, bouncing up and down so subtly it was almost like he was indeed vibrating. His eyes shone in excitement, almost sparkling, even as he wrung his hands in front of his chest almost compulsively. 

“Is it valuable?” He asked, his loud voice booming inside the room.

Kenji dropped his eyes to the notebook, the plain, old notebook that didn’t even so much as _sparkle_ , even less _shine_ , and then looked back up at his owner.

Almost on their own accord, his mouth opened, lips and tongue working together to produce sounds, and a sum echoed in the room.

“That much!?” Koganegawa all but screeched, taking a step back like Kenji had punched him. His eyes were open wide, his mouth hanging in shock. “Oh man, that’s more than enough, I wasn’t expecting that! My friend said not to get my hopes too high but—”

“I take it you’re interested, then?” Kenji cut him before he could think about what he had just done, and regret it. Koganegawa nodded, hair bouncing up and down, and Kenji nodded to himself, feeling the beginning of a headache building behind his eyes. “Stay here, then. I’ll bring the paperwork and then you’ll be free to go.”

It was with stars in his eyes that Koganegawa signed the papers, babbling nonsense that Kenji barely understood. Then he rushed to leave, a spring to his step, like he was afraid Kenji might change his mind and demand a refund. He wouldn’t have been too far off, for Kenji was half tempted to just do so.

Koganegawa left before he could do anything, though, and the soft chiming of the bells only served to make Kenji glower even harder at the useless notebook he had just bought.

***

“Welcome to _Futakuchi store for the weird and wonderful_. How may I—, oh, it’s you,” Kenji said before he could control himself as he saw who had just walked into his store.

“It’s me again, hi!” Koganegawa replied cheerfully.

“Can I help you with anything? Is there anything you want to sell?” As he spoke, Kenji crossed his fingers behind his back. 

Surely he couldn’t be _that_ unlucky. He didn’t think he could look at himself in the mirror if he, once again, bought a completely useless item from the man.

Fortunately for him, it seemed like the sirens were back to smiling at him.

“Not today! I had enough to buy the ring so I’m fine, even better than fine! And I don’t have anything else to sell. Do you want to see the ring?” Koganegawa asked as he leaned across the counter in his direction. His elbows made a loud noise as he placed them on the smooth surface, and the counter groaned softly at the added weight. 

Kenji took a small step back, just in case.

“Eh, there’s no need to—, oh well you’re looking for the photo, whatever then,” he said as Koganegawa scrolled down his gallery, searching for the one he wanted to show him. “Not to be rude or anything but if you aren’t here to sell anything, and considering I doubt you can even _buy_ anything in this store… What are you doing here?”

“My friend wanted to come here, so I decided to tag along,” Koganegawa replied with a shrug. “Look, this is the ring I mentioned the other day, isn’t it the prettiest ring you’ve ever seen?”

He then proceeded to practically shove his phone in Kenji’s face, so close all he could see was a blur. Frowning at the other, Kenji grabbed the phone to see it clearly, causing Koganegawa to rub the back of his neck.

“It’s really pretty,” he replied, his voice appreciative, and Koganegawa visibly perked up at that. It _was_ a really beautiful ring, simple but elegant, and obviously expensive. It was nice to know Kenji’s money had at least been put to good use. “I’m sure they’ll say yes,” he said, his words surprising them both.

“You really think so?” Koganegawa asked, eyes lighting up.

Kenji nodded.

“I’ve got a good feeling about you two, and I’m rarely wrong about it,” he shrugged, pretending he didn’t notice just how much his words seemed to please the other. “So, what brought your friend here? Are they interested in selling something?”

Koganegawa blinked, as if taken aback by the sudden change of topic.

“No idea, man. I just told him I had sold the notebook and he insisted in swinging by. Sometimes he does that,” behind them, the door to the store opened, and a couple of teenagers walked in, bickering between them. “I’ll let you to it and won’t bother you anymore, thanks again, dude!”

Pushing himself off the counter, Koganegawa walked in the direction of the shelves, looking around with curiosity in his face. Kenji followed him with his eyes, somewhat concerned with the future state of his store as Koganegawa got lost in it, but he refrained from tailing behind him as the teenagers gathered the courage to walk up to him.

One of the boys wanted to get his mother a present for her birthday, a chain that would never rust nor get lost, always returning to it’s owner, and it didn’t take long for them to be gone, the chain wrapped safely inside the boy’s pocket. Kenji watched them leave with a small smile, before he straightened up, wondering where Koganegawa might have wandered off to.

He was about to leave the counter and go search for him, fearing for the safety of his store, when someone spoke to his left.

“You have an impressive collection.”

Caught by surprise, Kenji almost jumped out of the skin at the sudden comment, before whipping his head to the side to stare at the person who had spoken. It was a man, bigger and taller than he was, with a slightly intimidating demeanor and white hair that almost shone in the warm lighting of the store.

Kenji frowned, and slowly returned to his usual position behind the counter.

“I know,” he replied, scanning the other man. “May I help you?”

Wordlessly, the man placed an item on top of the counter, and a sense of _déjà vu_ invaded Kenji’s senses. Tearing his eyes away from the man, he stared at the item, curiosity getting the best of him.

“What is this?” He asked, as he took the leather bound notebook in his hands. The sense of _déjà vu_ grew stronger.

“It’s a notebook. It’s one that will never run out of pages. It doesn’t matter if you rip them out or if you write them all, the next time you need them, it will have blank pages again. It won’t erase what you’ve written before, either. When you search for them, they’ll be there.”

“Do you wish to sell it?” Kenji asked, briefly looking up before returning his attention to the notebook.

“No. I want to give it to you. I think its cost must be covered by the sum you gave my friend for his notebook,” at that, Kenji froze.

“Excuse me?” He managed to get out, snapping his head up to look at the other.

“Your shop shows you know what you’re doing. All your objects are magical, so you must have known you were buying something that wasn’t when you did. Take my notebook, it should be a fair exchange.”

“I can’t do that,” Kenji sputtered, eyes open wide. The man cocked his head to the side.

“Why not? You’ve already paid for it, it would be fair to take this.”

“But it’s yours!”

“I know, that’s why. It was nice what you did, but it wasn’t fair to you. Take it,” he pushed the notebook in Kenji’s direction as he spoke. “I would have given him the money anyway if he wasn’t so proud. Just take it and we’ll all have won.”

“Except you,” he retorted.

The man shrugged lightly, the motion one that was barely there. He was about to reply when Koganegawa jogged up to them, shaking his phone in the air.

“Aone we have to leave, it’s getting late! It was nice to see you!” He shouted over his shoulder as he dragged Aone away, not giving him the option to complain.

“Wait!” Kenji cried out after them, just as the door to the store closed, leaving him alone in it.

Sitting on the counter, the notebook stared at Kenji, almost mocking him. Kenji buried his head in his hands and groaned.

***

The next time Kenji saw Aone, the shop was brimming with customers. It wasn’t usual, but sometimes it seemed like the whole city conspired to show up at the same time at his store and drive him crazy.

The chiming of the front bells was barely audible over the chettering of the conversations taking place around him and Kenji didn’t turn towards it until he felt a shadow falling on him.

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” Kenji muttered in the shadow’s direction, his mind someplace else. It wasn’t until his words had left his mouth that he registered the snow white hair and tall stature of the person standing beside me. “ _You_ ,” he hissed as he whipped his head to glare at Aone, who looked at him impassively. “You stay here and don’t move,” he ordered, digging a finger in Aone’s chest, before turning away to deal with the rest of his customers.

Feeling more restless than usual, Kenji did his best to solve each of his customer’s problems as fast as he could. Once he did, and the store was once again blissfully empty, he turned to face Aone, who had not moved from where Kenji had left him.

“What are you doing here?” He finally asked him as he came to a stop beside Aone, who was kneeling on the floor.

Dusting his knees, Aone stood up, carefully returning the object he was inspecting back to its place: it was a tiny morsel of spider-silk, said to be the most delicate yet strongest material out there. Kenji had managed to be gifted quite a bit of said material when he was younger, but he kept most of it stored away, for it was rare enough to be considered somewhat of a luxury, and he didn’t want to tempt his luck too much.

“Koganegawa’s boyfriend said yes,” Aone replied.

“I’m—,” Kenji started, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, that’s what you came here for?”

“I thought you might want to know,” Aone dipped his chin in assent. “He wanted to come tell you himself but he thought you might be annoyed by him.”

Kenji blinked, once, twice, before letting out a startled laugh.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that. Tell him I said ‘congrats’,” Aone nodded once again, and made to turn away, but before he took a step forward, Kenji sidestepped him and stood in his way, effectively blocking his path. “Now, I believe I have something that belongs to you.”

“No, you don’t,” he replied. “I sold it to you.”

“Your _friend_ sold me _his_ notebook. You just came by, dropped the bomb and left. That’s not how this store works!” He complained, throwing his arms into the air.

“You bought a used notebook and got a brand new one for free. I’d say that’s a pretty good deal,” Aone pointed out, which made Kenji grit his teeth together.

“No, it’s not! It’s a terrible one!” At that, Aone tilted his head to the side, a puzzled look in his eyes, and Kenji felt like kicking something. “I did not buy it from you, you just basically forced me to take it, and I can’t possibly accept it because it was so freaking expensive. It was way more expensive than what I paid your friend for his, that barely covered the price of yours and—“

“Would it make you feel any better if I came to give you something else?”

That was enough to put an end to Kenji’s rant, and he promptly closed his mouth, intrigued.

“You want to sell something? What is it?”

Instead of answering, Aone reached for his coat’s inner pocket, and produced a small object from it, which he then put on the counter for Kenji to see.

It was a small crystal vial, closed by a cork. It had a handwritten label plastered on one side, but it was old, and the ink had faded out, rendering it illegible. At first glance, it looked like the vial was empty, but a closer inspection revealed the magic came from its inside, not from the vial itself, and, when put through backlighting, it became obvious there was something stirring inside it, faintly turning around.

“It’s inspiration,” Aone answered Kenji’s unspoken question. “The kind of inspiration that got a writer to push through the hardest scene of his book, when things were starting to fall apart.”

Kenji let out a low whistle at that.

“That’s really hard to get. The moment you stop paying attention, _pfff_ ,” he snapped his fingers, “and it disappears. I don’t think I’ve ever found any vial as perfect as this one. Are you sure you want to sell this?”

Aone took the vial from Kenji and stared at it pensively for a few moments. Just when Kenji thought he was going to tell him he had changed his mind, Aone smiled softly, placing it back on the counter.

“I’m sure,” he replied simply.

Kenji looked at him, scanning his face for any signs of doubt, but Aone held his eyes, and he could find none of them, so he reluctantly nodded.

“You’re not making me feel any better, but whatever. I will go bring the papers and we’ll sign it. But if you regret it, come back and I’ll give it back to you right away, okay? Don’t look at me like that, I know it’s terrible business, but it’s _my_ business.” 

Aone’s expression turned faintly amused at that, but he nodded.

Still unsure about the whole ordeal, Kenji went into the back office, where he kept the papers. 

“Like I said, if you regret this transaction, come bak and we’ll solve it. It’s not the usual thing but that’s so expen—,” Kenji raised his eyes from the stack of papers he was carrying, and froze, forgetting what he was about to say. “Oh, come on! You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groaned, hitting his forehead with his palm.

The space previously occupied by Aone was empty, but not so the counter, where the vial sat, innocently waiting for Kenji.

***

It became sort of a ritual, after that.

Sometimes Kenji would look up from whatever he was doing, eyes drawn to the door as the bells jingled, and he’d find Aone strolling in, towering over the rest of the customers. Occasionally, Koganegawa would tag along, but most of the time, it was just Aone, keeping him company through the long hours, fitting seamlessly in his routine.

Aone wouldn’t take back what he had given him, though. Despite all of Kenji’s efforts, including shoving them in Aone’s bag when he wasn’t looking, the other always refused his offers to give them back, and returned them to him. Instead, he continued to give him more.

A map that would always lead you home, a lacquered box that allowed you to bottle up the laughs of your loved ones, a pouch woven under a blue moon, that would never get full nor heavy. They were rare, so precious Kenji could barely put a price to them, and Aone always refused to take money, driving Kenji up the walls.

They weren’t always magical objects, though. A coffee, snacks, something to eat on the days he knew Kenji hadn’t had time to get lunch. It became a common place occurrence, to have Aone sitting by his side on the counter, a silent companion to the days when the store was full, or an extra pair of hands and someone to talk to when it wasn’t.

Somehow, it became something to look for, those stolen hours with Aone, and Kenji found that he wasn’t as bothered about it as he thought he would.

He became a familiar presence at the store, like he had always been there. Sometimes, it was hard even for Kenji what the shop had been like without Aone silently walking around it, or sat beside him on the counter. It had always been his realm, Kenji the sole king that ruled over it, but, ever so slowly, Aone had wormed his way into it, and it didn’t look like he wanted to leave.

Kenji himself wan’t sure he wanted to see him leave.

(Sometimes, the words clawed up his throat, but he always swallowed them down, keeping them locked away in his ribcage, away from sight, even himself’s).

“I never see any of the things I give you here,” Aone commented on a spring evening, his fingers idly following the patterns on the wooden counter.

Kenji stiffened for just a second, before going back to putting order in the shelves, worse for wear after a busy evening. If his hands trembled ever so slightly, none of them said a word about it.

“I’m still cataloguing them,” he replied, calmly, voice steady. “I’m really behind on that.”

It wasn’t a lie. He _was_ really behind doing inventory, he loathed doing it. (Kenji made sure his mind steered away from thinking about his home, and a certain drawer he used to keep his favorite things in). 

Looking up briefly, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips, Aone looked like he knew Kenji was not telling him the whole truth.

“I have to leave now,” he announced then, as he packed up his things.

“Have fun,” Kenji told him over his shoulder. “Will you come by tomorrow?”

Aone nodded, and Kenji drew in a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Bending down, he continued what he had been doing before, but his previous words echoed in his head, louder than ever, impossible to ignore, and Kenji had enough.

Acting on an impulse, afraid he’d change his mind, he turned around, words burning at the tip of his tongue, but he wasn’t fast enough: Aone had slipped away before Kenji could do anything about it.

Sighing tiredly, Kenji shook his head, trying to get rid of the regret that had filled his mouth, and went back to that task at hand. It wasn’t until he finished that he saw it, enough to steal the breath from his lungs and conjure a half smile to his lips: a small, brown box, sitting beside his pens and pencils, like it had always been there. 

A flash of excitement through his veins, Kenji opened it, and dared peer inside to see what it contained.

It was a compass, and a tiny one, for that. It hung from a silver chain, and it had a pattern of faint leaves engraved on it. When Kenji picked it up, its needle spun like crazy, so fast it was almost dizzying, and he set it down once again.

_They say it points in the direction of your soulmate_ , read the neatly written note that came with it. It was a cream colored paper, with a faint design of trees printed on it.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Kenji brushed his fingers against the compass’ polished surface and, before he could think too much of it, he passed his head through the chain, hiding the compass from view under the shirt.

Behind him, footsteps approached the counter, and he turned around to tend to his next client, a smile plastered on his face.

***

(The compass hung low between his collarbones, cool metal against his skin. The sole time he’d dared open it, it had pointed towards the door.

A part of Kenji had longed to follow it’s direction, see where it’d lead him.

The other had known exactly whom he’d find on the other side.)

***

“You’re a coward,” Moniwa declared unceremoniously the next time they video called.

Kenji narrowed his eyes, glaring at the rest of them as they all showed their agreement with Moniwa’s statement.

“I am not,” he replied, and Kamasaki scoffed.

“You really are. Not with everything, of course, but with these kind of things, you’re just a good old coward.”

“I don’t feel any type of inclination to continue with this conversation,” was his clipping response, but it only made them snicker further.

“See? You know we’re right and don’t want to face it. You’re a coward,” Kamasaki’s words were teasing, and Kenji could see it, the trap that he’d lain there for him to fall head first into.

He could have easily ignored them, of course, but Kenji knew, as well as his friends did, that pocking at his pride was simply something that he couldn’t, wouldn’t allow.

“Care to elaborate on that?” He hissed and, oh, if looks could kill, his friends would be dead where they sat, but that wasn’t the case, and so, they merely grinned back at him.

“You called us to tell us your problem, but you already know what you have to do. I’m not sure if you’re looking for an excuse to not do it or a reason to do it, but either way, you know what you have to do, so quit beating around the bush and go for it.”

“It’s not that simple,” he replied, rubbing his face with his left hand.

“Of course it is!” Sasaya cried out, and Kenji turned his face to glare at him directly.

“Have you even noticed what you’re doing?” Sakunami shyly asked.

That was enough to make Kenji look down, and he hurriedly dropped his right hand onto his lap, disentangling his fingers from the chain around his neck. He hadn’t realized the compass had fallen from his shirt. He hadn’t even realized what he was doing.

“See? You know what you have to do, and you know you _want_ to do it, so why are you stalling?” It was Moniwa’s turn to be glared at again.

“It doesn’t really matter. You better do it soon, or we’ll go there and do it for you,” Kamasaki threatened, and Kenji became utterly still, as if he had turned to stone.

“You wouldn’t,” he replied.

They all scoffed at that.

“Think again, buddy. Just who are you talking to?”

Save for Sakunami, the rest of them wore matching grins, ones that spoke of a little too much enjoyment on their part as they witnessed Kenji’s struggle. 

Kenji’s expression turned sour, regretting having ever called them, and he was sure the lot of them could read that on his face.

“Whatever, I’ll just think about it. See you later,” he merely replied, not willing to subject himself to that any longer.

“Hey, Futakuchi, don’t leave yet! One last thing,” Moniwa urgently called for him over the noise of the rest’s screaming ‘goodbye’ at him at the top of their lungs.

“What is it?” He asked, conjuring his most disdainful and uninterested expression, his finger hovering over the ‘exit’ button.

The rest of them suddenly shut up, becoming really interested in whatever Moniwa had to say.

“Coward,” Moniwa announced after a pregnant pause, a smile full of mirth playing at his lips.

Kenji didn’t bother with farewells as he punched the ‘exit’ button, the delighted laughter of his friends still ringing in his ears as the screen turned black.

Oh, how he hated it when they were correct.

Closing his laptop, he stood up from his chair and paced around his room, fingers messing up his hair as he ran them through it, trying to make sense of his own thoughts, to no avail.

“This is stupid,” he grumbled to himself, leaning against his desk, hitting it with a _thump_.

The sudden and careless movement sent half the stuff he had on it tumbling to the ground, and he groaned quietly to himself, kneeling down to pick everything up.

As he did so, a flash of silver on the periphery of his vision caught his attention, and an idea started to take form in his mind…

***

The next time he saw Aone, it was the first day of the summer. Sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing everything in a soft glow. The store was empty, one of those slow mornings where Kenji had been utterly alone for all of it. His hands had been clammy since the moment he opened, and his throat turned dry when he heard the ringing of the bells, and a familiar set of footsteps.

Aone came in, hands in his pocket and a bag slung over his shoulder. He was about to reach Kenji when something caught his attention, and made him stop dead in his tracks.

The pocket watch sat atop of the counter. It had some more bumps and scratches than it had had fifteen years before, but other than that, it was just as it had been that day in the woods, when Kenji thought he had lost it for good. It glinted from where it lay on top of the counter, like a beacon in the night, drawing them to it.

Aone took a step closer, gingerly brushing his fingers against the watch. There was a tender, almost melancholic look in his eyes. The recognition in them was palpable.

“I know what it does now,” Kenji leaned forward, arms braced on the counter and a slight smile on his lips.

There was a slight hitch in Aone’s breath, almost imperceptible. Kenji’s smile grew, turning teasing.

“You do?”

Kenji nodded, reaching forward to pick the pocket watch up. He spun it between his fingers, eyes fixated on it as he thought.

“I figured it out a long time ago,” he found himself saying out loud. “I just didn’t want to say anything until I was sure.”

Aone nodded, the shadow of a smile on his face.

“You never did like saying anything until you knew you wouldn’t be wrong. So, you solved the mystery,” he said, and Kenji snorted to himself. His fringe fell into his eyes and he brushed it back, feeling restless all of a sudden.

“And you kept your promise,” he replied, and he watched as Aone’s sketch of a smile grew into a real one.

“Of course I did.”

_Did you expect anything less?_ Was the unspoken question in his voice. 

It was enough to make him smile.

“Thank you for the gifts. I’ve liked them all a lot, but you didn’t have to do it,” Kenji said instead, watching as Aone leaned forward, mimicking Kenji’s posture from the opposite side of the counter.

“I wanted to,” he admitted, shuffling his weight on his feet. “I wanted to give you something you’d like.”

The smile on Kenji’s lips turned smaller, softer. His hands itched to reach forward and wrap themselves over Aone’s. Instead, he settled for the watch, playing with it between his fingers, before finally settling it down on the counter once again.

It rested there, open, hands turned to point at twelve.

“You didn’t have you. I’d like you even if you hadn’t,” he whispered his own admission, feeling the tips of his ears redden. 

It was worth it just to see the surprise and happiness mingling in Aone’s eyes, though.

“I still wanted to.”

Kenji ducked his head to hide the growing grin on his face, feeling exhilaration bubbling up in his veins.

When he looked up, it seemed like they were closer than they had been before.

“Tell me something, then: what about the apples? I always wondered where they came from. There were no apple trees around in those woods,” Kenji said, eyes shining in mirth as he watched red spreading through Aone’s cheeks, his gaze dropping to his feet for a second, before resolutely looking back up.

“I brought them for you. You were always hungry and never brought food for yourself, so I brought it for you.”

Aone’s honesty caught Kenji by surprise, even if it really shouldn’t have. It momentarily stole the breath from his lungs, before Kenji regained his footing and a wide smile spread through his face, threatening to split it into two.

“Maybe I did it because I knew you’d always have something for me,” he replied.

Aone stared at him, unblinking, before a smile slowly spread through his face, like he Sun timidly shining through the clouds on a rainy day. 

“I’m closing the store in a couple hours, would you like to get lunch then?” Kenji asked, feeling his cheeks heat up as he spoke. It was worth it, though, when Aone nodded, happiness obvious in his face.

Around them, all the clocks in the room ticked twelve.

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be short and sweet. It sure as hell isn't short, but I hope, at least, it was enjoyable! I just, liked the idea and ran with it, and I hope I was able to do it justice ^^ This whole fic was written to Taylor Swift's folklore album, and Sasha Sloan's Lie, which is honestly a weird OST for this once but surprisingly, it motivated me a lot jsjsjs  
> I hope you liked it!  
> Comments and kudos warm my heart <33
> 
> [tw](https://twitter.com/blue_nebulae)
> 
> \- Val


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